Alpine Lake A Thwack of Thought

Maybe her sarcastic inner monologue wasn’t too far off the mark. Masquerade stood with an inscrutable expression as the wolf rubbed at his head, examined what looked like a spot of blood, licked it, then plopped to the ground. She stiffened, though there was concern in her marigold eyes.

Did you hit your head? she asked, then amended, How hard?

Cautiously, she ventured closer. She sniffed, picking up the traces of blood. It didn’t seem like a concerning amount, though she was no healer. She paused about two yards from him, dark paws planted on the snowy ground and long tail swinging pensively. She examined him with shrewd eyes.

I’m not lost, she said, and all you need to do is use your nose. I’m not part of these packs but I just assume they don’t take kindly to trespassers, so that’s why I suggest you watch your step.